Dreams and realities
by quiller
Summary: Everyone should have a dream, but sometimes you need help to make them become reality: a prequel to my 'Birthday gift',
1. Dreams

Author's notes; this story takes place in the summer of 2059. Scott is 20, Virgil approaching his 18th birthday, and Alan 15 ½ (all dates and ages based on Chris Bentley's '_Complete book of Thunderbirds)_. This story acts as a prequel to my already-published '_Birthday gift'_.

I would like to thank Closetfan and Purupuss for proofreading for me, and Rathead for the information on driving ages.

I acknowledge Carlton plc as the copyright holders of the _Thunderbirds_ characters, and thank Gerry Anderson and his team for bringing them to life.

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1. Dreams

"Hey, guys, It's here! Come and give me a hand, will ya?" Alan called excitedly as he ran out of the house towards the flat-bed truck that had pulled up outside.

The driver of the truck leaned out of his window. "Where do you want me to put it?"

"Can you get it onto the drive, please, Joe? My brothers and I can take it from there."

By now the other boys had spilled out of the front door, and together they watched the tarpaulin-covered object being winched down onto the ground. Once the manoeuvre was completed the driver retrieved his tarp and put it back on the truck.

 "Thanks, Joe," said Alan, "and tell your father I'll take good care of her."

"Sure thing, Alan," said Joe. "Have fun, now!" and with that he drove off, leaving the young Tracys staring at the object on the drive.

Gordon finally broke the silence. "You gave three months of your allowance for _that_? Brother, you've been had."

Alan bristled, "OK, so she hasn't been looked after lately. But look at the lines on her! That's a 2040s Zodiac XL5. When I saw her round the back of Mr. Kopecki's workshop last week when Dad took the Merc in for its service, I just knew I had to have her. Can't you just see her all gleaming red paint and shiny chrome?"

Gordon eyed the rusting hulk dubiously. "Not at the moment, no."

John spoke up. "2040? That makes it the same age as me."

"Yes, just think," cut in Gordon, "nearly as old as Scott here." He ducked as Scott aimed a cuff at his ear.

Meanwhile Virgil had pried open the hood and was examining the engine bay, muttering to himself. "V-8 engine, overhead cam, fuel injection." He looked up at Alan. "Well, kiddo, it's going to take a lot of work, but I'll tell you one thing – when this baby's finished she's going to go like a bat outta hell!"

"Come on" said Scott, "let's get it into the barn." The 'barn' was a prefabricated structure the size of a double garage that their father had had constructed at the side of the house to contain the hobbies of five extrovert boys. This was to keep the peace both with their grandmother who didn't want them cluttering up the house, and the neighbours who wanted the mess kept out of sight. 

The boys opened the doors and looked in. At the front stood Scott's pride and joy, a state-of-the-art motorcycle, as sleek and gleaming as a thoroughbred racehorse. The floor around it was clear for a respectful distance, but apart from that there was hardly a bare inch of floor to be seen amidst the various bicycles, kayaks, windsurfing equipment, old model rockets and painting paraphernalia.  A bench down one side was covered at one end with a partly disembowelled computer and a radio John had been given to fix by his grandmother that was so old it wasn't even digital. The other end contained Virgil's lathes and welding equipment, currently standing empty since he had graduated from high school the previous month.

"Ah well," said Virgil, "high time we gave this place a spring clean."

It took the rest of the morning to clear enough space to push the car inside. Once there, Virgil started to give it a closer examination.

"How long do you think it's going to take?" queried Alan.

Virgil looked at his youngest brother's eager face. "Well, the bad news is, it won't be ready to impress a certain young lady when she gets back from Europe with her father next month." Alan's face reddened as it always seemed to lately when any reference was made to Tin Tin. "But think of it this way," he continued, "by the time it's finished you'll have passed your test and be able to drive it on the highway."

"And you'll give me a hand?"

"Sure, kiddo –we'll all help."

"I'll help with the electrics" volunteered John.

"I won't be able to do much till next month," put in Gordon. "Don't forget I'm off to swim school next week for the Junior Nationals at the beginning of August, but I'll help once I get back."

"I'm going to be a bit busy too," added Scott. "What with spending the last year at Oxford I've got a lot of catching up to do."

"Yeah," said Gordon in a teasing tone, "and we all know what sort. All those girls who've been pining for you while you've been at college in England. Let's see, Marianne, Tanya..."

"Simone, Michelle…" John continued. Scott smiled, but wisely kept silent.

"I've just realised" said Alan, "August is going to be a busy month. We'll be going to Oklahoma to watch the web-footed wonder here," (Gordon grinned), "then it's Virgil's eighteenth birthday party, then Grandma will be taking us to her house at the end of the month for a week."

"Yeah, funny how we always seem to go there just in time to watch the races at Parola Sands."

"You wait. One day I'm not going to be watching those races, I'll be in them. _And_ I'll be winning!"

"Yeah, and one day I'll have my own personal submarine."

"Hey," cut in John, always the mediator, as Alan opened his mouth for an angry reply. "It doesn't do any harm to dream. Maybe you _will_ get that sub one day. Maybe I'll have my own private space station, and be able to watch the stars for weeks on end." He turned to his older brother. "What about you, Scott. What's your dream?"

Scott grinned. "That's easy. Mine would be the fastest plane in the world. What about you, Virgil?"

Virgil was just emerging from underneath the car, where he had been checking the bodywork for rust. "My dream?"

"Yes, what would it be? To win that international piano competition in Paris?"

To their surprise, Virgil shook his head, a faraway look in his eye. "No, that comes up every year. No, mine would be to build something that's never been done before. "He paused and looked at his older brother, "Maybe one day I'll help build that plane for you, Scott" He dusted his hands. "Come on guys, I'm hungry after all this work. Let's go and see if we can raid Grandma's cookie jar!"

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	2. Realities

2. Realities

Author's note: this chapter is based on something my ex did once – now you know why he's my ex!

"Is the coast clear?"

"Yes, Grandma's just driven off"

"OK, let's get started then. You'll keep watch for us, won't you, Gordon?" Alan asked his older brother, anxiously. "If she catches us there'd be hell to pay." 

"Relax, kiddo. She'll be hours at Mrs McCluskie's. Once those two get talking they can carry on all day."

A few minutes later Alan met up with Virgil in the kitchen. His older brother was carrying a large, toothed ring, about 12 inches in diameter, and some pliers.

"You're sure this is the best way to do it?" asked Alan. "Can't we just heat it up with a blow torch?"

Virgil shook his head. "No, it's important that the starter ring heats up evenly – that way it will expand and we'll be able to slip it onto the engine without any trouble. Don't worry, once we're finished we'll clean the cooker and Grandma will never know we've been here."

Alan watched as his brother laid the ring on top of the cooker and turned all the heating elements on full.

"How will we know when it's ready?" queried Alan.

"When it starts to change colour."

The two boys watched the object on the cooker. "Thanks for all the help you've been giving me with this over the past few weeks, Virgil. I really appreciate it, especially as this will be your last holiday before you start work." 

"Hey, no problem, kid, I've enjoyed it, besides it will be good practice for me." Unlike his older brothers, Virgil had not wanted to go into either the air force or NASA. Instead, he had asked for a 'gap' year before college, which he had decided to spend working for Tracy Transport, a wish his father had been only too happy to grant. "I've always liked making things with my hands, whether it's a painting, a piece of music or an engine. That's why I asked Dad to put me in the machine shop, rather than the research department. I'm not the sort of person who can come up with new ideas, but I can take those ideas and translate them into reality."

"Like Scott's dream plane?"

"Maybe, who knows?"

Gordon was on the phone in his father's study. "Thanks, Ms O'Connor, yes, I'll give him the message when he gets home." He heard a car pull up outside, looked out and to his horror realised it was his grandmother's little runabout. He bolted from the room just as she entered the front door.

"Gordon! What were you doing in you father's study?" 

"Just answering the 'phone, Grandma." Gordon gave her one of his most innocent smiles, which immediately put his grandmother on her guard. "I knew father was expecting a call from Mr Sasaki about his new koi, so when I heard it ring I thought I had better answer it."

"And was that Mr Sasaki?"

"No, it was a Ms O'Connor calling from Washington. Said she had found something Dad was looking for. I didn't know Dad had lost anything."

"Well, you know your father – always so many projects on the go."

Ruth Tracy turned to head for the kitchen but Gordon intercepted her. "You're back early, Grandma."

"Yes, when I got to Maisie McCluskie's I found her daughter and grandchildren had dropped in for a visit, so I didn't stay long. I thought I would head into town and take back those shoes I bought last week, but I realised I had left them behind. They're in the kitchen – I'll just pick them up, then I'll be off."

"I'll get them for you, Grandma. You just wait here."

Ruth looked at her grandson suspiciously. "What are you up to, young Gordon? Another of your pranks?"

"Me, Grandma? Nothing!"

"Out of my way, young man!" and with that she pushed past him and opened the kitchen door. "Virgil, Alan! What's going on here?" She moved closer. "And just what is that…thing… doing on my cooker?"

Both boys looked contrite. "Sorry, Grandma" said Alan "we didn't expect you home just yet."

"Yes, I worked that out for myself. Get that filthy object off my cooker _now_"

Virgil went to pick up the ring with his pliers, then hesitated, looking at his grandmother earnestly. "Grandma, I know you are angry with us - you have every right to be. But please, we need to get this on the car now, while it's still hot. We'll be back to take our punishment, but can you give us twenty minutes first?"

"Make it fifteen, and get back here at the double."

"Yes ma'am". Virgil used the pliers to pick up the starter ring, then both boys beat a hasty retreat.

Gordon met up with them in the barn. "Sorry, guys. I did my best to head her off, but you know Grandma. Once she gets going she's about as easy to stop as a tornado! What did you get?"

"We haven't – yet," said Alan, his expression grim, "but when Dad gets to hear about this I'll probably be banned from the car so long that by the time it's over I'll be too old to drive!" The boys' father maintained strict discipline, and any misdemeanours were punished by a 'ban' suitable to each son. Gordon had been banned from the pool for a week after he spiked the sugar bowl with salt at his grandmother's last coffee morning.

Virgil looked up from where he was tapping the starter ring onto the engine. "It's all right for you, but what if he bans me from the piano? I've got my birthday party on Tuesday, and everyone will want me to play!" He straightened up, wiping his hands on a greasy rag. "Come on, Alan. Lets go and get it over with!"

Back in the kitchen, their grandmother was waiting for them. Though all her grandsons now towered over her by a good six inches, she was still an intimidating figure. "Now boys, how do you want to handle this. Do we tell your father, or do you want to deal with me?"

The boys exchanged glances. The rock or the hard place? Finally Virgil spoke. "We'll take your punishment, Grandma. We'll clean the cooker for you, if that's what you want – we would have done that anyway."

"You'll do more than that, young man," said his grandmother. "I want the whole kitchen spring-cleaned. All the cupboards – inside and on top. You can defrost the freezer, pull out all the appliances and clean behind them."

Alan looked around the kitchen. "But, Grandma, that'll take all day!" he said, dismay in his voice.

"Well then, you can start straight after breakfast tomorrow morning and I'll come round to check it's been done just before supper."

The following day Ruth paused on her way past the kitchen  and glanced in through the open door. She was not surprised to see not just Virgil and Alan hard at work, but the other three boys as well. She went on her way smiling to herself. Those boys just couldn't stand by when someone needed help. Jeff had done a good job with them.


End file.
